Reylo Drabbles
by dutchesscourtney
Summary: An ongoing series of unconnected short stories centered on the Reylo pairing, including Modern!AU, HS!AU, College!AU, and TLJ.
1. Marry Me

_**AN: Yes, I am now Reylo trash. I'm not even mad.**_

 _"I'll wear my black suit, black tie, hide out in the back_  
 _I'll do a strong shot of whiskey straight out the flask_  
 _I'll try to make it through without crying so nobody sees_  
 _Yeah, she wanna get married_  
 _But she_ don't _wanna marry me._

 _She got on her dress now, welcoming the guests now_  
 _I could try to find her, get it off of my chest now…_  
 _Yeah, she wanna get married_  
 _Yeah, she gonna get married_  
 _But she ain't gonna marry me_  
 _Whoa, she ain't gonna marry me, no."_

 **Marry Me, Thomas Rhett**

An unmistakable letter appeared in his mailbox one day in late April. He'd heard rumors, of course. The happy couple and their romantic engagement had been splashed across social media. He'd avoided going online for a week. Maybe everyone had one in their life – the one that got away. An unattainable fantasy. In his kitchen, he'd looked at the heavy card stock of the wedding invitation for the better part of ten minutes and, before he could stop himself, burned the damn thing and watched the ashes blow away in the wind.

She'd called two weeks later. Looking at his caller ID, he almost didn't pick up. "We haven't received your response yet, Ben. Won't you be joining us?"

"I…" _I love you. Seeing you marry him will destroy whatever is left of me. You're marrying the wrong man._ In the end, he couldn't come up with a better excuse. "I'm sure it got lost in the mail."

"Oh." Rey's usually upbeat voice sounded defeated.

"Is there anything else?" Talking to the woman of his dreams who would soon be marrying someone else was exquisite torture.

"Actually…"

"Yes?"

"Wasn't there a rumor that you know how to dance?"

"What?"

"In high school or college. Didn't your mom force you to learn how?"

"I guess." It was true. His mother had enrolled him in ballroom classes, and weirdly enough, he had enjoyed them. It wasn't a skill he went around broadcasting, but it occasionally had its uses. "Why?"

"The thing is…"

"You need a teacher." He could think of no more unbearable situation than holding Rey in his arms or watching her in someone else's.

"Something like that. I love him, but Finn has two left feet and I want to have an amazing first dance."

'Let me think about it' had been his response, which was how, one week before the wedding, he had ended up filling in for Finn for a last minute rehearsal. Although Ben had been able to get out of much of the actual practices, sending links and suggestions, he'd had to be present a few times. And although every time he swore he wouldn't go back, he still turned up – too afraid to let Rey down.

"Where is Finn?"

"Poe surprised him with some last minute bachelor thing."

"And you're okay with that?"

"It's fine. I trust him. Well, Finn at least…"

The studio space was empty, and he'd heard Ed Sheeran's 'Thinking Out Loud' far too many times over the past hour. Although their time together was almost up, he found himself asking, "Can we try something different? Just to change things up?" She hesitated and he asked quietly, "Please?"

"Sure." Even in her heels and yoga pants with a sweaty tank top, she looked gorgeous. "I've got time for one more song."

Ben pretended to scroll through his phone. He already knew the tune he wanted. The familiar opening chords of 'Back Down South' by Kings of Leon played from his smartphone, which he placed on the floor. He took a deep breath and offered his hand.

She paused in front of him. "I hope I don't step on you."

As if her tiny frame would cause any damage to his much larger one. "It will be fine, I promise."

"I know. I can trust you, Ben."

"I know you don't know the steps, but follow my lead, and you should be fine."

Her perfume, a sweet scent he had always associated with daisies and springtime, washed over him. Her hand, so much smaller than his own, fit perfectly, and he pulled her close. They didn't speak, but he twirled her around the floor, bringing her in as close as he dared. At the end of the song, her cheeks were rosy as he moved her into an elaborate dip. Intentionally, their faces were close, and, although he hadn't exerted himself, he was breathing hard. Forcing himself to look at her, he searched Rey's face for anything he could latch onto. Her lips were so near… Was she bending towards him or was it his imagination?

Their concentration was broken by the sound of a text on his phone. He gently released her, cursing silently to himself.

And now it was the actual damn day of the damn wedding, and he couldn't remember when he felt more miserable. Not noticing the looks of approval from guests in the way he filled out his somber black suit, he reached to his inside pocket and pulled out a flask, given to him by his usually absent father. The liquid inside was perilously close to running out, and Ben found himself not caring that much. He was going to sit at the back and skip the reception.

Why was he here?

Why hadn't he said anything to her?

Rising quickly, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked out of the venue. He'd done his piece. He'd shown them how to dance. He'd signed the registry. What more was needed?

He found himself driving to a nearby bar. What would happen next? Seeing pictures of their honeymoon? Could he move to another town? "Another, please."

Just then, the bar went silent as a woman in a white dress appeared in the doorway. Her makeup, which had at one time been perfect, was now smudged around her eyes. She pointed across the dimly lit room at him. "You."

 **AN: A wonderful interlude has been written for this chapter, focusing on Han and Ben and the flask. Find it on Xanderlike's FFN profile as Father-To-Son.**


	2. Sleeping Beauty

**AN: Slight spoilers for SW:TLJ.**

 _"If you love me let me go_  
 _If you love me let me go_  
 _'Cause these words are knives that often leave scars_  
 _The fear of falling apart_  
 _And truth be told, I never was yours_  
 _The fear, the fear of falling apart_  
 _Oh, this is the beat of my heart, this is the beat of my heart."_

 **\- This is Gospel, Panic! at the Disco**

He senses her before he sees her, of course. An intangible thread connecting them from what place he cannot remember, but once present has been an undeniable force. Rey had not mentioned she would come to him, so her presence is unexpected – an immense surprise of a caliber he cannot quite define.

Understanding she will soon arrive, Ben rushes to prepare. He must see her before anyone else does. He cannot imagine that horrible Hux glimpsing her, touching her, or otherwise being involved with her before he has a chance…

A chance to what?

His subconscious pings sharply at him.

Ignoring his latest internal dilemma, Ben arrives at the deck. Her pod is moved towards him and he motions to receive it in a private loading bay. No one is going to spoil this moment for him…for them. And, as it occurs to him belatedly, he wishes to see her beyond the view of others. Locking the door behind him, he is reminded of a similar situation at a time that feels like years ago.

Only now…

Everything is different.

Her eyes are closed beneath the glass. He can just see the curve of her cheek below the condensation. It is a face he has memorized, but now, up close, is engrained in his soul. Her breath comes quicker. Her heart beats faster. These are the details he can sense when they are not separated by the stars.

I knew you were awake.

Her lips quirk in the briefest of smiles.

If they weren't on a destroyer, if Snoke wasn't waiting for them, if they had been connected earlier… What would their futures have been? And what could a future with Rey look like? Could she lead him back? Could she help him find the useless redemption he never thought he wanted?

Holding his breath, Ben pushes a button, and the glass between them disappears.

Removing his glove, he reaches down. Unable to stop himself, he caresses her cheek. He waits for her to react. When her eyes open and she stares up at him, lips slightly parted, he feels himself bending down, when a tug comes from inside the ship. They have been summoned.

Righting himself and forgetting his hand is still bare, he reaches to help her, startling at the connection when their fingers touch.

And then reality snaps in.

The handcuffs go on her wrists before he realizes what he's doing. Kylo is once again in control.


	3. Fools

**_AN: Immediately following SW:TLJ._**

 _"Here's to the ones who dream_

 _Foolish as they may seem_

 _Here's to the hearts that ache_

 _Here's to the mess we make."_

 _ **\- Audition, La La Land**_

His father's pride and joy (an honor certainly never associated with himself) speeds away, with her a passenger. She departs along with hope, salvation, and an endless list of other unattainable qualities. The reality of what's happened – what he's done – finally crashes in. Decisions he cannot undo, consequences, and repercussions…

Why didn't she stay?

As he rises, his usually pristine cape drags slightly in the dirt. Numbly walking back through the destroyed bunker, Kylo realizes he has no idea what to do next. He has long ago given up on love – an emotion he has no use for. One that leads only to weakness, not strength. To the light and never the dark.

The girl from nowhere.

A scavenger.

In the scope of the entire galaxy, she amounts to nothing. He is now the most powerful man in the known universe.

So why does she represent more? And why specifically does it matter so desperately to him?

He pauses, looking into the harsh sunlight of Crait. The desperation in his voice as he said the word 'please' echoes loudly in his ears, embarrassing him. Crippling him.

He views the spot of the attack on Luke and the anger he'd had on board dissipates, leaving an empty void.

For years, he's known his path – to follow the Supreme Leader without question. To grow stronger than his powerful grandfather. To find and smite his uncle. With the introduction of Rey and their inexplicable connection, his plans have changed drastically. In all his plotting, there had been no time for such wasteful things as relationships. But after the battle, the thought of ruling the galaxy with her at his side had felt so extraordinarily right he'd felt a punch to his gut when she denied him.

His gloved hand grasps onto the gold trinket clearly left for him. A connection to the ship. To her. To that hateful name she continues to call him. He won't let go. Damn him, he can't. They aren't finished – this is just getting started.


	4. Mess

**_AN: Post Throne Room Battle, pre-leaving the room. Thoughts on Rey's thoughts._**

 _"There was a time when i had nothing to explain_

 _oh, this mess i have made_

 _but then things got complicated_

 _my innocence has all but faded_

 _oh, this mess i have made_

 _and i don't believe in god_

 _so i can't be saved_

 _all alone as i've learned to be_

 _in this mess i have made_

 _but i don't believe in love_

 _and i can't be changed."_

 ** _\- Mess, Ben Folds_**

As Rey's eyes flutter open, the physical pain hits first. Her shoulder, cut and bleeding. Then exhaustion, apparent on levels she never knew imaginable.

The emotional pain strikes next, an altogether different agony. The brief hope of turning Ben to the light, almost instantly extinguished by a plea for her to rule with him. And yet… Her eyes frantically search the rubble for Ben. As she attempts to sit up, surprising herself, her first thought was not of the broken lightsaber, nor of Snoke, but instead, if he is still breathing. Before she can stop herself, she limps to his side – narrowly avoiding the debris caused by their epic fight against the Praetorian Guard. She drops down, and placing her hand on his muscular thigh – the same one she had grabbed during their battle – and watches for the rise and fall of his substantial chest.

Once she sees he is drawing breath, she releases a sigh of her own. Is it relief? She cannot tell as she looks at his unconscious form. Had he done the same on the Stormkiller base? She had come awake to find herself in Kylo's presence, in another location entirely. What had transpired during that time? Here, at his most vulnerable, her instinct tells her to help him.

But there is no time to pause. Surely, there must be guards on the way. This much commotion would not go unnoticed and she needs to find a way back to Chewie and the Falcon.

She finds herself unable to move.

In repose, his face has a tinge of softness. There is the scar she gave him, of course, but a strange innocence she cannot tear away from. Her hand darts out. Gentle as a lover, she touches his face. Her fingers stroke his full red lips and large features. The contact with his bare skin jolts her and new visions pour into her mind. As before, they come fast and furious. She removes her hand, shaken by what she's seen.

Is it possible?

Redemption seems like the furthest possible outcome and yet the spark of it is present.

Dropping her head, she presses her lips against his, whispering a prayer, then rising to collect the broken remnants of Luke's lightsaber.

Where she is going, he cannot follow.

For now.

And when he awakes, he will have decisions. Choices she cannot make for him, but options that can lead to what she's just witnessed.


	5. Cantina HS - Part 1

_You're so gorgeous_

 _I can't say anything to your face_

 _'Cause look at your face_

 _And I'm so furious_

 _At you for making me feel this way_

 _But, what can I say?_

 _You're gorgeous."_

 **\- Gorgeous, Taylor Swift**

It was a routine Tuesday at Cantina HS. Rey would remember this day because Tuesday was taco day, and tacos were generally the most exciting thing that occurred between the hours of 7:30 AM and 2:00 PM.

And then _he_ walked into her studio class.

Tall. Taller than anyone she could think of at Cantina, he dressed in black jeans and an equally dark hoodie and looked wildly uncomfortable in front of the classroom. Hands in his pockets, his long dark hair fell softly against sharp cheekbones. At the same time, he looked distinctly familiar, but Rey could not figure out where she knew him from. As an aspiring artist, Rey continued to examine his face, which was not conventionally attractive - but rather unique to look at. Large features, including lips that looked utterly wasted on a boy, would make him a fascinating subject to paint.

 _As if that's the only reason you'd want to have some time to finish 'studying' him, her inner voice chided._ For the most part, the boys at Cantina did little to nothing for Rey. She was certainly sociable with her group of friends, but nothing more, and was surprised to have such an instant reaction to the new kid.

The teacher, the eccentric Ms. Holdo, announced, "I'd like you all to welcome Ben Solo, who joins us from Outer Rim. Please make him feel welcome at Cantina. Ben, do you have a specific style of art you enjoy?"

"Calligraphy is okay, I guess," he mumbled, causing other students to laugh and mutter 'loser' under their breath, but Rey thought his answer was brave. Certainly, inks aren't her preferred medium, but why should anyone judge another artist?

"Please take a seat, Ben." Ms. Holdo turned attention back to delivering an involved critique.

Upon other miracles besides halfway decent tacos in the cafeteria, the tall young man picked an empty seat next to her (making Rey realize how happy she was that Rose had decided to skip third period). Sliding over, he all but dwarfed the stools they all sat on. A swimmer, she decided. No one naturally had his muscles (which no baggy hoodie was capable of hiding).

Rey began scribbling in her notebook. What was she supposed to say? What could she say? How did someone talk to someone so gorgeous? As he pulled out a notepad of his own, she said, "Hey Ben…"

"It's Benjamin."

His tone invited no further conversation. Stunned, Rey frowned. Who responded like that? What was his deal?

They spent the rest of the class in silence. Rey, angrily sketching and Benjamin all but ignoring her.

 ** _AN: Probs going to have to continue writing this verse at some point._**


	6. Knights

_**AN: A brief ficlet where the Knights of Ren = Knights of Camelot and the Skywalker lightsaber = Excalibur, post TLJ. Like most of my drabbles, would probably work better as a fully realized piece…**_

 **Knights**

Drawn to the famed circled table through clandestine forms of communication, the loyal Knights of Ren gathered. Spread across the galaxy, they had made their way undetected to the sacred location and the round table that united them. The First Order was not aware. The Resistance was unknowing. No one knew, except those who had proven their worth and successfully borne the rites of the order.

And yet, she was there.

They had heard rumors, perhaps some had even talked amongst themselves, but clearly, none was prepared for her actual presence in this most sacred of spaces.

Would anyone be good enough for the man they had killed for? Who they would give their lives for? Could there be a match for his power?

She looked...at peace. Cloaked in innocent white to his cruel black, there was no mistaking the energy of the couple in front of them.

"I have called you here today for reasons which will become clear, but I will let my bride share our most important news."

There was no mistaking the word. Nor, the look between Kylo Ren and Rey. Without an introduction, everyone knew who she was. For better or worse, she was an important player in the galaxy, and, as they are all aware, the one who had taken the blame for killing Snoke.

Although the assassins are too well trained to respond to the Supreme Leader's shocking pronouncement, Rey does allow a moment to let the air settle.

She then reached to her waist and retrieved a weapon. The Skywalker lightsaber. Long hidden, then destroyed, now whole again. The weapon of protection, of legend, of significance.

The Jedi placed the legendary weapon on the table and bowed to the group. "It is yours. Returned to where it belongs."

Her voice holds no grudge, no anger, just resolute calm.

Kylo grasped Rey's now empty hand, his larger grip encompassing her smaller one. "And with the return of our sacred weapon, the truth of Snoke's death will be made clear across the galaxy."

"What are you asking of us?" The question came from the eldest person at the table, an older woman with cropped silver hair.

Kylo looked at Ren, who nodded. He has never lied to them and he will not start now. "Today, we leave the First Order. Today, we find balance. I cannot and will not force you to join me, but I will ask for your help."

"There is no way we can do this without you." Rey's voice was softer, but there is inherent truth in her statement.

"What do you need exactly?" The youngest in the room, a male creature from the Outer Rim, asked, speaking in the common language.

Rey stepped forward. "We need a coup to overthrow the First Order and install General Organa as Empress. She is the only peaceful resolution to the years of conflict in the galaxy. Kylo can rule no longer."

"Will you join us?" Kylo asked.

The males and females in the room did not speak. One by one, they laid their weapons down at the circular table, until every equal space was filled.

With a quick smile, Kylo said, "That settles that. Let us get started."


	7. Bad Things

_**AN: College!AU**_

 _"When you came in the air went out_

 _And every shadow filled up with doubt_

 _I don't know who you think you are_

 _But before the night is through_

 _I wanna do bad things with you."_

 ** _Bad Things, Jace Everett_**

Rey wasn't supposed to be out, and if she was out of her apartment - which she most is definitely not - she's only meant to go to a coffee shop to retrieve caffeine so she can continue reviewing her notes. While perhaps not the last minute procrastination style of her roommate Poe, the usually studious Rey still has some ground to cover before her 10 AM anthropology class in the morning.

And yet somehow, tucking her denim jacket around her, and wrapping a woolen scarf a bit closer about her neck, she finds herself walking towards the Globe, a quieter bar downtown. Tonight is an open mic night, and while Rey's never had the courage to get up and perform one of her original songs (no matter how much Poe and Finn tell her to do so), she does like to listen to what others in the university town have to share. There's the overdramatic theater types, and those in bands, and occasionally some amazing covers, with some free verse and other talents thrown in. Nodding to her favorite waitress, Rose, Rey grabs a corner of the bar, and the bartender slides her a bottle of beer. "I'll just stay for one," she says to no one in particular.

On the small stage, under the sparse spotlights, a somewhat harried Rose smoothes her hands of her apron, retrieves the battered clipboard and calls out, "Ben? Is there a Ben here?"

Rey perks up, because she's not heard this name before. A tall man shuffles forward. Clad in a black t-shirt (stretched nicely across broad shoulders, Rey notices) and dark jeans, he easily holds his guitar. The crowd quiets in anticipation while he tunes. Speaking into the mic, he more or less mumbles, "This is an original. I hope you like it."

When Ben starts singing, his deep, somewhat gravely voice makes Rey realize she's glad she left the house tonight and all thoughts of anthropology drift from her mind. She watches his fingers, impossibly large and nimble as they move across the strings, gracefully pulling out melodies and notes. When he finishes his first song, Rey belatedly claps along with everyone in the room.

"Take off your shirt!" A drunken voice yells from the back of the room, and Rey has to agree with the person's sentiments.

"One more?" Ben asks, dark hair falling across his face.

From the back of the room, Rose shrugs her shoulders. "Go for it."

The second song is more upbeat, but there is still melancholy and sadness. His songs lack the depth Rey's been searching for in her own songwriting. But it's more than that. Her long dormant libido decides tonight is the time to come roaring to life. Suddenly warm, she unwinds the scarf from her neck. Unsure what she's doing, her feet more or less carry her over to Ben once he's finished his set.

"Hi."

Ben is carefully putting his guitar away. Locking the case, he looks up and says, "Hi."

"You were great. I mean, that was awesome..." Rey looks down. This has to be the dumbest conversation between two people throughout time and space.

"Really?"

"Yes, your lyrics were...meaningful."

"I guess."

"Why? Don't you think so?"

"I..." He looks up and seems to see her for the first time. "I'm Ben."

It's not quite the answer she is expecting, but Rey extends her hand and answers, "Rey. Can I buy you a drink?"

Ben hesitates for the briefest moment. "Sure."

A short time later, Rey watches rather jealously as Ben's lips linger on the bottle of beer. What is wrong with her? What should she do now? What would Poe do? All she can think of is getting very close to this relative stranger, but doesn't want to scare him off, and really has no idea what to do next.

The flare of a speaker feedback catches both of their attention. Rose says, "And now, Mr. Hux and his accordion stylings of Lady Gaga..."

Rey doesn't hesitate. She grabs Ben's hand. "You'll want to leave - I promise."

Halfway to the door, realizing she's gone a bit too far, she drops his hand and is surprised to feel his warm palm on the small of her back. As they near the exit, he bends down over her shoulder, murmuring in her ear, "Got somewhere you need to be?"

"No."

"Any place you'd like to go?"

Feeling wildly emboldened for a Tuesday night, she turns and answers somewhat breathlessly, "Yes."

"And where might that be?"

"I thought we could go back to yours and you could teach me the first song you played."

"Really?" Ben stops, unsure of himself.

"And then I suppose we can see what happens next..."

Rey receives a B- for her quiz on Wednesday morning, but the new song she's learned and the abilities of some wildly talented fingers more than make up for her score.

 _ **AN: Bonus points if you know which Globe I'm referring to. Also, I'm really too mean to Hux.**_


	8. Birthday

_AN: Inspired by a prompt from Xanderlike, and well, it was my birthday yesterday._

 **Birthday.**

It was said that Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader, did not celebrate the passing of years. He had aged, of course, but there was never any celebration. No tradition, nothing marking the day except the changing of a number logged in datapad somewhere in the depths of the First Order archives, buried so deep not even Hux had been able to retrieve the details.

And this day, his actual day of birth, finds Kylo in his quarters, contemplative. Where was she tonight? What would she do if she knew it was his birthday? Would she, could she possibly care? When he was very young, he remembers silly cakes and hastily wrapped gifts from Han. Of more love than he's ever experienced in his life. Kylo's hands clench into a fist. Memories of another time.

He wonders of the passing of her years. What would a scavenger's birthday be like? Stuck on Jakku, alone in the desert, who had it worst? The years forgotten by Leia, with apologetic notes sent from distant planets, or no one but desert rats to share the day with? What could be worse than Luke, within Kylo's Jedi training, knowing the precious order was more evolved than something as elementary as a birthday.

 _Are you there?_

Kylo moves to the window and looks out into space. He knows not where she is. As always, he can only see her. Against his better judgement, he keeps the bond open. _Yes. Why do you contact me?_ She had made it obvious departing Crait she wanted nothing to do with him.

 _I… Felt. Nothing, I'm sorry-_

 _No, I'm glad you contacted me._

 _Is there something about today?_

Is she that in harmony with his feelings? Sighing, he feels too tired to lie and answers aloud. "It is my birthday."

She is silent for a moment, then speaks, "I… I do not know what to say." He doesn't either, and then she asks, "What do you want for your birthday?"

For the man who can everything, whose will is law in the galaxy, her request seems a silly question. If anything, he wishes for the gift of time. He would go back in time, back to...maybe all the way to the birthday when he was last happy, before things got complicated. Before Luke and Snoke and the mess that is his life.

"What would you wish for?" He turns the question back to her.

"It is not my birthday. I…"

"Surely there is something you desire?"

His word causes a reaction. A faint rose color tinges her cheeks. "It is your birthday, not mine. As you've said previously, I am nothing. What could I possibly give the Supreme Leader?"

"I…" He pictures - not for the first time - some of the many things she could give him, then shakes his head.

Apparently, Rey understands the intent of his of his pause and while he thinks she is repulsed by him, she hesitates, then, after some apparent inner debate, says, "Close your eyes."

As if commanded by the force, he immediately closes his eyes. The air around him feels closer, more tense and although he keeps his eyes shut, he's convinced himself he can smell the dry air of the desert around him. Then, for the first time since her reassuring presence behind him as they fought against the guards, he feels her hand on his chest.

A small amount of pressure. An intake of breath. Soft lips tentatively connecting with his. He bends down and places one of his large hands behind her head. She yields to him and opens her mouth, allowing them more access to each other. There is heat. Passion. Fire. She twines herself around him.

When he finally opens his eyes, she is gone.

 _Happy birthday, Ben._


	9. Swimming Lessons

_**AN: I've been going to the gym early and there's always people in the pool (including handsome trainers). Anyway, here's a little AU!fic fun. Tenses are all over the place - sorry about that.**_

Rey Jakku did not know how to swim.

It was a simple fact, and one that she had managed to hide for nearly the entirety of her twenty years on the planet. She could ride a bike. She could rebuild a car engine. She could style her hair in three buns with no mirror present. There many things she could do, but swimming was not one of them.

When Finn found out - and he was the only one she shared this embarrassing fact with - he (lovingly) made fun of her every chance he got. At one point on someone's 21st birthday, Rey drunkenly swore that she would learn to swim before she graduated.

And now it was the last semester of her senior year, and she'd had a free elective and somehow needed physical education credit as well. Basics of Swimming, which met at an ungodly hour in the morning, two days a week. With his limited income, Finn took her shopping for a sleek black Speedo, claiming she would do better in the water. He also bought her goggles and a swim cap to complete the look.

 _You are not afraid of the water._ She (unconvincingly) told herself as she arrived at the swimming complex.

There are mostly bleary underclassmen surrounding her, and Rey is just about to walk out when the instructor walks in. He is six feet plus of lean muscle. Dressed casually in a dark grey Henley, with athletic shorts, the clothes enhance his textbook swimmer's body - broad shoulders, trim waist, and, with a second, long look, Rey decided she would stick around. Just in case there was something to learn. Although sat by herself, Rey hears whispers from the younger girls in front of her. Apparently 'Coach Ben' used to be on the university swim team, and had been training for the Olympics when some sort of scandal with a coach had ended his career.

For the first week, the class reviews fundamentals and don't get in the pool. Well, they are in the big aquatic center, enough that Rey can smell chlorine on her clothes for hours after, but not actually in the water.

When Coach Ben blows his whistle the following week, everyone eases off the edge of the pool into the shallow end. As soon as Rey makes contact with the water, she instantly reacts in a completely unexpected manner - which, she can only sort out later, is to have an instant panic attack. She scrambled for the ledge, thrashing wildly. Not caring everyone else in the class was staring at her, she hauled herself out of the pool, teeth chattering and wrapped herself in a towel, then sat on the lonely bleachers.

She waited there, dripping, until class was over.

Coach Ben, all gleaming torso and fluffy towel around his muscular shoulders, settled next to her. He remained silent, and she appreciated the space he'd left between them. "It happens, you know."

"I… I thought I was past everything."

"It's a brave thing. To face your fears."

"What? Being scared of water?" Rey doesn't want to go into the details of her phobia, of the reasons behind her aversion to swimming. She thought enough time had passed. Rey then hides her face in her hands. "Damnit."

"What?"

"I think we're past the drop and add period. I'm going to fail. I'm not going to graduate, all because Finn forced me…"

"Hold up. Slow down. Take a breath. Who is Finn?"

"Oh, he's my roommate. This all started as a joke."

Rey can tell that Coach Ben doesn't think swimming is a joke, but he remains silent for a moment, then asks, "And why would you need to worry about graduating? You've got years ahead of you."

"I'm a senior."

"You, uh… Don't look like one."

Rey is now wholly embarrassed. Her class crush thinks she's a freshman. Fantastic. "I came in with some credits."

"Look, I don't usually offer this, but why don't we work out something outside of class hours?"

"You would do that?"

"I… Whatever."

Rey didn't think he would show, but sure enough, at the agreed hour of 6 AM (she wanted to die), she and Ben were alone in the big aquatic arena. Rey didn't have time to worry about her hair or general appearance. It was just too early to be bothered with such things.

Ben's voice is gentle as he jumps in ahead of her, at ease. At the stairs into the shallow end, he stretches his arms out to her. "Ready? You can go as slow as you need to."

So she does. Step by step, until she's in water up to her waist. With his long dark hair dripping down the column of his strong neck, Ben speaks in low tones and he's never more than a step away. She feels...secure.

The following session, she arrives a few minutes late, and watches as Ben completes an effortless turn under water, then glides smoothly on the surface, his large frame pulling through the water. As she makes her way to the edge, he gives her a paddle board and asks her to kick in place. There is anxiety, but nothing she cannot overcome. In fact, her fear instantly disappears the moment she feels his hand balance on her abdomen, correcting her motion. The touch of Ben's large hand sends a pulse of heat just a few inches lower and Rey realizes it's been over six months since she fooled around with someone at a party off campus.

Ben looks down at her and leaning in, asks, "Feel the difference?"

"Yeshufh," is all she manages to say. She's never had such a strong a reaction to anything - except water.

The next week sees her almost correctly executing a version of freestyle. It's not pretty, and she certainly isn't going to break any records, but she's done it. At the end of their session, she swallows and says, "I… I think I can go back to the regular class now. I'm sure you'd rather have a bit more time to sleep in." Although it will end their time together, Rey knows it's the right thing to do. She can continue her crush from afar.

"Are you sure?"

"I think so."

"So, you'll graduate?" He asks with a smile, water glistening on his eyelashes. They've kept almost their entire conversation about swimming, and this is the first glimmer of a real dialogue. Rey had thought herself boring, or maybe it was the early hour that had stopped him from chatting.

"If coach passes me." She answers with a cheeky smile.

Her original classmates begin to filter in. Rey decides to stick around. Water, at least, in the pool, no longer triggers an immediate fear in her. Ben approaches her after class is over and says, "If you ever want to talk about it, I'm happy to listen about...why you didn't like water."

Rey honestly can't tell if he's asking her out, but she's happy to see him somewhere wearing regular clothes. "That would be nice."

"No pressure."

"How about coffee this weekend? My friend works at Blue Sky... He can get us a discount."

"I'll see you there."

 **AN: Unrelated, how many Reylo fanfics is too many to subscribe to? #askingforafriend**


	10. Secrets

_**AN: Post TLJ. Sorry gang, it's been awhile, but I've been publishing a book. If you like steampunk, let me know or have a look at my profile.**_

 _"Secrets are the currency of intimacy." - Frank Warren_

She manages to hold out three months after the events of Crait, before she finally opens the bond, desperate to know how he is - how he fares after becoming the Supreme Leader. On a remote planet with the Resistance, there are no updates. No rumors. Only the tattered remains of the few who might stand up to the First Order. Try as she might, as much as she mediates and studies the ancient texts, Rey still has ties to the physical world. Her friends. The Resistance.

Ben.

Opening the bond is easy - the connection between them is a living thing, organic and once unlocked, Rey realizes how much energy she has been using to maintain the distance between them. She sees him clearly, in his customary black, alone.

He looks to his left, where she would be standing, as if she was physically present.

He's silent and Rey isn't entirely sure he's aware of her.

"Of course I am."

Unsure how long the bond will last, she looks at him, reviewing his features. He's the same and yet changed - harder, more masculine.

"Have you told them?" His tone is neutral, but his expression is anxious. That familiar quirk of his jaw belies something...

"What?" she asks, forcing herself to break eye contact.

"Of us." Her deepest secret. It's been on her lips to tell Finn or Leia on countless occasions, but she's never been able to bring herself to do admit the connection. "Ah, you haven't. So embarrassed by what we have?"

The Jedi texts say nothing specifically of secrets, but Rey imagines the ancient scholars would frown on anything outside the truth. Why then, does it feel so good to keep things private? In a universe where she's had nothing, given nothing, been nothing, this one small thing for just her is-

"Something to appreciate?" Ben provides. "Yes, I feel it too."

Rey crosses her arms. "So, you haven't spoken about me to Hux or the rest of your Knights?"

At Hux's name, Ben (she will only think of him by this name) pulls a face. He answers, "I had tapes destroyed."

"They think I killed Snoke?"

"Yes."

"And the Knights?"

"I haven't told them otherwise."

Some small part of her shivers at this unspoken thing between them. That he hasn't revealed the truth is a nearly pleasurable level of trust. Forcing her emotions down, she asks, "Are we to keep this secret until the grave, Ben?"

"I see no reason not to. You've put your lot in with the rest of the rebel scum, so it is not as if our paths will cross in the foreseeable future."

His words sting unexpectedly. "What about the bond?"

"What about it?"

Rey can hardly admit that she's felt more alive in these past few minutes than she has in the entirety of the previous months. "I… It's unique."

"I suppose it is."

He's starting to fade. She catches herself from reaching out, but asks, "Will you…"

"Yes?"

"Will you keep our secret a bit longer then?"

She isn't able to hear his response, but feels his confirmation across the bond. A secret that's tangible, something to keep her company at night. She knows their situation won't stay like this forever, but perhaps she can trust Ben just a bit longer. After all, the faith in each other works both ways.


	11. Come Pick Me Up

_**AN: Whatever, modern Reylo is fun. Wandering into Kira/Dark!Rey territory of sorts.**_

 _"Come pick me up_  
 _Take me out_  
 _Fuck me up_  
 _Steal my records_  
 _Screw all my friends_  
 _They're all full of shit_  
 _With a smile on your face_  
 _And then do it again._

 _I wish you'd make my bed_  
 _So I could make up my mind_  
 _Try it for sleeping instead_  
 _Maybe you'll rest sometime_  
 _Oh, I wish I could_  
 _I wish I could."_

 ** _Come Pick Me Up, Ryan Adams_**

Kylo observed the brunette across the bar, who was speaking animatedly to a friend. She was dressed in a plain black tank top, which revealed moderate, but pert breasts, and strong shoulders with beautifully crafted collar bones. Her unstyled hair (three messy buns couldn't count as an effort) and relative lack of makeup enhanced her fresh features. In the recent past, Kylo had dated heavily styled women of a certain type. Nursing his Old Fashioned, pondering his next move, Kylo idly wondered if wanted to bother slumming it in this bar, which was certainly not his usual choice in a venue (even if the bartenders knew what they were doing). Kylo wasn't dating anyone and knew that Hux was (as usual) running late to meet him.

There - she had finally made eye contact with him - glancing him up and down quickly, and, if Kylo wasn't mistaken, was the quickest, most thorough eye fuck he'd ever witnessed in his life, leaving him relatively breathless. Her eyes were...he couldn't tell across the room, but suddenly felt a desire to know their color. They were heavily rimmed in black eyeliner but gave nothing else away.

Too stunned to respond and trying to calm himself and do his best to remain aloof, Kylo checked his phone, scrolling through work e-mails, then took another sip and hazarded another look in his mystery girl's direction. She was sipping a drink and clearly knew he was gazing at her, as she sloooooowly licked the rim of her beer bottle, her pink tongue easily catching his attention and setting his imagination aflame.

One of Kylo's long fingers went under his collar, which suddenly felt entirely too tight, and the action, indicating her effect on him, made her smirk slyly across the distance, as she focused on what her friend was saying. Kylo adjusted his trousers under the cover of the overhang of the bar. He didn't care if she was dating anyone, he wanted her. Never mind they hadn't even exchanged a word.

Kylo was preparing to go over and introduce himself, when he looked up to see his mystery girl collecting her things to leave. As she left, passing close enough he could smell the distinct perfume of jasmine waft in his direction, she dropped a napkin, which she (of course) did not bother to pick up or acknowledge.

Kylo barely waited until the door closed behind her before he reached forward and retrieved the note. Unfolding it, the handwriting was basic, but legible, and the words, _Don't worry, I feel it too,_ gave him pause.

Underneath the short sentence was a phone number.

Kylo hesitated, then typed out a message, not bothering to look if the digital note was received. He then threw a twenty dollar bill on the bar and strode out, the napkin tight in his hand. He didn't have time to wait and didn't care if Hux would understand or not. Hell, he was just glad Hux wasn't present to see Kyo brought down so low.

He didn't care what this girl did to him. She could use him. He would be a part of whatever she would give him. Digging his phone out, his hands trembled slightly as he dialled the number.

"Hello?" a husky voice answered.


	12. Intimacy

_AN: Kylo POV, TFA. Slight tweak on Reylo's first convo._

 **"They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered."**

 _ **― F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise**_

The girl in front of him, the one he has heard so much about, is nothing like he expected.

She hid her fear, pretty eyes wide and defiant. Desert rat. Scavenger. She somehow wore the titles with a fierce pride.

Although Kylo had been mentally unguarded when he entered the room - an oversight he was unable to remedy - her intrusion into his mind was both exhilarating and terrifying, comforting in a way he couldn't admit. In her, he felt the same aching loneliness that was his daily existence. She understood what it was to live apart. Never belonging. Completely alone.

He never believed someone would have the capacity to know the depth of isolation he felt. But there it was.

And she felt it too.

He watched recognition wash over her face. The same surprise. A moment where her gaze softened, then immediately hardened, as she remembered her location.

Kylo, schooled in some of the ways of the Jedi from his formative years of training, knew a connection like this was rare. That she was Force sensitive was actually a lesser interest. Snoke, of course, would be fascinated in the range of her power, but Kylo was less so.

 _Ben..._

Her voice in his head. How could she know?

As familiar anger boiled over, he welcomed the emotion, blocking out anything else. Standing up and quickly donning his mask once again, Kylo's cape flowing behind him as he departed the room.


	13. Name

**_AN: Who knows where this one came from… Faerie legends apply. Also, why not virgin!Ben? Also, bumping the rating to Mature, because of the sex._**

 **Name**

 _I think about you all the time_  
 _But I don't need the same_  
 _It's lonely where you are, come back down_  
 _And I won't tell 'em your name._

 _ **\- Name, Goo Goo Dolls**_

He was lost in the desert. Stranded, trying to find his way, but all the hills looked the same. The red sand, the heat. He did not have much time left.

There.

Shimmering in the distance, an oasis - a patch of green in this devastating environment. Ignoring the sweat stinging his eyes, he moved forward.

Finally, he smelled it - water. In a most ungentlemanly manner, he lurched forward, and dropped himself in the liquid - forsaking all knowledge of threats, his training, focusing on that which was the most important.

Forcing himself to pace his intake, he sat up, drunk on the life-giving water he'd just consumed. Looking around, he saw palm trees and, if he wasn't mistaken, the remains of some long abandoned vehicle, its technology hopelessly out of date. Still, he'd look it over to determine if there was anything useful.

If only...after a brief nap.

Crawling towards a tree to find some respite from the shade, as well as protecting his back, hand on his saber, he falls asleep sitting up.

Coming to some indeterminate amount of time later, he looks up - into the face of a young woman, freckles gracing soft cheekbones.

Simultaneously off guard and full of other emotions he cares not to recognize, he fumbles with his sword, dropping it into the sand. The woman, beautiful in her own way with delicate features and cunning hazel eyes, merely blinks.

Does she speak his language?

"Hello," he rasps, his voice out of use from days of inactivity, hands clasping around the sword.

She does not respond, but does not move away. If she is afraid of him, she does not show it.

Pointing to himself, he says, "Kylo Ren."

Her eyebrows move up and she shakes her head. In a voice deeper than he expected, she answers, "That is not the name given by your father."

Kylo recalls legends, tales of the power of names. Of faery and magic and ancient times. Shaking his head, he asks, "And what was the name given to you?"

This is the wrong question. She is equal parts angry and sad. He has offended her on a deep level. She moves to walk away, and as she does, Kylo swears he sees the water and lush vegetation dissipating around him. Taking a deep breath, he says, "Ben."

It is a name he has not spoken in years.

She turns and offers a half-smile. His world instantly brightens. Whatever trade he has agreed to, whatever fate lays before him, he accepts.

"And how did you come to this place, Ben?" Her voice lilts, dropping on the syllable of his name.

"I…" There was a crash. An accident. Lives were lost. "Where am I?"

"Jakku." She answers, not breaking eye contact.

"Impossible." He knows Jakku. It's leagues away from where his ship was bound.

"And yet, here you are."

Ben blinks. "Am I dead?"

"I suppose that fact matters on a few things. You have partaken from my oasis without asking permission. I have provided you shade and protection."

He looks up.

"What else do you have to barter with?"

"I… My name?"

"You've given me both."

Ben grips the sword in his hands. His grandfather's, passed down through generations. Ben realizes his life his in the balance, and lifts it up - an offering to the beautiful woman. She shakes her head. Letting the sword fall into the dirt, he answers, "I have nothing left of value. My ship is crashed. My crew is dead."

Her hazel eyes widen and she tuts gently in his direction. Standing fluidly, she walks silently in the sand. Dressed in swathes of a white material he cannot define, the garment floats and sways to reveal tanned, lithe skin underneath. "Your virtue."

Pale as his skin is, he feels color drain from his face, then a fierce blush paints his cheeks. She smirks at his response and continues, "So strange that a man of your age, and," she pauses to look him up and down, "stature, would have lived his life without the touch of a lover."

He refuses to break eye contact. To explain himself. To tell her the ways of the code he's lived by. She moves closer, and with a light touch, caresses his face, then his hair. Even if he's never been intimate with someone, his traitorous body does not know the difference. His trousers grow uncomfortably tight.

She lets loose a low laugh. "What do you say, Ben? Will you give me your virtue, freely?"

With some difficulty, he swallows. If death is sleeping with a beautiful woman, then he supposes it's a better fate than dehydration. In response, he loosens his cowl, then removes his shirt.

"You have to say the word." Her eyes glitter dangerously, sweeping over the muscles of his chest and abdomen.

"Yes," he whispers.

The word is barely from his lips, when hers crash into his and she licks hungrily at the seam. He opens for her, groaning, wondering why he waited for so long. Without fear, she straddles his lap, her legs astride his, grinding her heat upon his length. And then her hands are upon him, under his pants. In all his years, he never dreamed the feel of fingers other than his own upon his cock, and almost immediately spends himself in her hand. As if sensing this, she giggles slightly to herself and moves to kiss his neck. Finally finding a rhythm, he allows his hands to explore, and upon doing so, realizes there are no small clothes under her silks. Nothing standing between him and…

Oh…

He begins making sounds he's never made before, that he did not know he was capable of. The sensations are almost too much and… Her hand stops and she rocks back on her ankles. Placing her hand over his, she guides him to her core. He follows her guidance and soon her hand drops away, and she's riding his hand, groaning against him. He puts another finger forward, spurred on by instinct and before long she shouts out, resting her light weight against him.

Eyes glassy, she looks at him and lowering herself to his ear, asks, "Are you ready?"

He can only nod, as she slowly peels away his trousers, then lifts the coverings around her body.

She is perfect.

Once again sliding above him, Ben is wholly unprepared as she settles down on his cock - wet, hot, and a thousand other feelings. She hums in satisfaction, slowly moving, using his broad shoulders for balance. He moves with her. Forgetting his name, his code, everything he's lived for until this point.

When she calls out, "Ben," he realizes she has done so at great peril. His name, given back to him, earned by way of innocence. His orgasm is powerful, shaking him from tip to toe, as he spends himself inside this beautiful woman. However, this faery creature in front of him does not seem to mind, and she lazily rolls back, sated and spent.

Ben too, finds his eyes growing heavy.

When he awakes, he is alone. The hour grows late. Covered by his cowl, she is nowhere to be found, but Ben sees lights of a city in the distance, and a pack next to him. Not wanting to press his luck any further, he gathers his clothes. Pausing at the edge of the oasis, he whispers, "Thank you" and moves away.

This day will never be forgotten.


	14. Shut Up and Drive

_**AN: Because Reylo on a motorcycle is the best Reylo.**_

 _"I've been looking for a driver who is qualified_

 _So if you think that you're the one step into my ride_

 _I'm a fine-tuned supersonic speed machine_

 _Got a sunroof top and a gangster lead_

 _So if you feel it, let me know, know, know_

 _Come on now, what you waiting for, for, for_

 _My engine's ready to explode, explode, explode_

 _So start me up and watch me go, go, go, go_

 _Get you where you wanna go, if you know what I mean_

 _Got a ride that's smoother than a limousine_

 _Can you handle the curves, can you run all the lights_

 _If you can, baby boy, then we can go all night_

 _'Cause it's 0 to 60 in 3.5_

 _Baby, you got the keys_

 _Now shut up and drive, drive, drive_

 _Shut up and drive, drive, drive."_

 **Rhianna, Shut Up and Drive**

He was meant to be the best.

However, she didn't have time for his credentials, nor precious minutes to ask where he came from, or where he had managed to piece together such a clearly contraband bike. With Poe and Finn busy at another location across town, Rey was on her own - her first solo assignment.

In fact, given the fact that she'd just robbed one of the main First Order banks, she only had time to think about getting away. To be caught meant interrogation, or death.

In the short amount of time they'd communicated with him to set up the job, he never revealed his real name, only his street name, Kylo Ren. She had no idea where it came from, or why she used it. Not that it mattered, she was, after all, just Rey. No last name.

The black-clad motorcyclist revved the engine as soon as he saw her running in his direction. The heist had been not for money - too obvious, and they had digital means of siphoning funds from the First Order - but rather for information. The innocuous USB drive, tucked safely inside her black lace bra, had details that could help undo the giant corporation.

As she neared the motorcycle, the driver extended his hand, wrapped in black leather, as she swung on the back of his bike. He quickly offered her a helmet, saying nothing, as she clipped it in place.

From far away, she hadn't been able to judge his size, but as she gripped on to his considerable torso, she swore she could feel an eight-pack through his jacket, the same color and material to match his gloves. Her contact with him was all the indication he needed. The lights of the city whipped around them and soon the noise of the sirens faded away.

They were making good time, when Rey almost bit her tongue, as the driver skidded to a quick stop, swerving into a tight alley, then stopping the engine, flipping the lights off, and remaining still. Rey had to grip tightly, but momentum took her and more or less pressed her into his broad back. She'd done her best to maintain her distance, even as they made sharp turns, and escalated speeds. Now, however, his warmth soaked through and she realized just how long it had been since she'd had male contact of this variety.

Working with the Resistance hadn't given her much time for physical relationships.

Kylo kept quiet, his breathing slightly escalated, and an unmarked police car drove by, one that Rey hadn't seen.

He quietly restarted the engine, then they made their way towards her drop off point - a location Rey had been originally excited to arrive at, but now found herself wishing the location was a bit further, digging for some excuse that would keep Kylo from riding into the night.

He slowed a few meters away from the warehouse that served as a safe house for the Resistance. Lit by a lone streetlight, he pulled to the dark corner on the far side of the building. Turning off his bike, he leaned it on its kickstand, which Rey took as a sign that her ride was over - never mind the throbbing between her thighs. She hopped off and removed her helmet, passing it back across, wondering if Kylo would reveal himself.

He paused, and pushed back his visor, revealing a pair of pretty dark eyes in the low light. If he wanted to say something further, he didn't, and snapped the visor back into place, leaving Rey breathless and frustrated.

As she punched the keypad to enter the safe house, she was greeted by an exuberant Finn, who wrapped her into a big hug. Passing over the small drive, she walked to a remote stand, pretending to research the information she'd stolen.

Instead, Rey spent her evening trolling through the Resistance database for details about the mysterious Kylo Ren.

 _AN: 'Solo assignment' tee hee. Also, I would love love love to see any part of this illustrated. And I should probably continue this one at some point._


End file.
